One Step Nearer~*~
by Angel Karora
Summary: Matt has an accident...I'm not telling you what happens next 'cause that would be telling! :P Please R+R. Flame me, whatever, just don't expect me to leave nice reviews for YOUR stories.


A.K.: Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. Oh, but what fun I could have if I did...Anyways. Hope you enjoy this! NB It's longer than most of my stuff, not my usual one-chapter fic. So keep checking back for new chapters, okay?  
  
~Matt~  
  
I was dreaming.  
  
I was in a desert. The hot, dusty sand settled in my hair and made my mouth taste gritty. In search of water, something to ease my feverish discomfort, I began to walk. The fine dust irritated my eyes and throat as I navigated the endless wasteland.  
  
Soon, the desert gave way to a maze of endless corridors, smooth walls rising up on every side of me. Soon, I reached a door. I grasped the handle, feeling the smooth shiny metal in my palm. I twisted it, and the door opened outwards.  
  
I stepped forwards, several paces. There was a cliff face in front of me. Cautiously, I edged nearer to it. Suddenly, I had the sensation of falling, falling...  
  
~Masaharu~  
  
It was early in the morning. I was awoken by Matt's footsteps as he walked past my door.  
  
Still half-asleep, I stumbled out of bed to see if he was okay. I was immediately greeted with a rush of cool air, and a glimpse of murky grey walls.  
  
Outside?...The front door must be open!  
  
In my dozy state, I didn't pause to consider why the front door would be open at five o'clock in the morning. Instead, I just moved to shut it. As I did so, something compelled me to look down. Glancing in front of me, I suddenly jerked into full wakefulness.  
  
The stairs down from the apartment stretched out before me. And lying at the bottom, sprawled across the dirty floor, was my son.  
  
~Matt~  
  
I awoke, to the smell of disinfectant and a strange numb feeling from my shoulders downwards.  
  
"Matt? Matt, can you hear me?"  
  
A disembodied voice came from my left. I attempted to move my stiff neck. I eventually succeeded in tilting my head just enough to recognise my father's hair.  
  
"Dad?" It was an effort getting the words out; they seemed to short-circuit somewhere between my brain and my mouth. Instead of my normal careful pronunciation, they came out slow and slurred. "Where am I?"  
  
There was a slight pause. "You're in hospital."  
  
Hospital? That would certainly explain the whitewashed ceiling and stench of bleach, but...why? It couldn't be because I was ill. Strangely, I had no recollection of being taken to hospital the night before. In fact, I had no recollection of the night before at all...  
  
I struggled to push myself upright in the bed. The numbness in my shoulders was replaced by a tingling sensation as I moved; however, from my waist downwards I still couldn't feel a thing.  
  
I tried to bend my knees to help myself up, but found I couldn't do so. Something was pinning them down; preventing me from moving them. What was going on?  
  
I gave up the struggle to sit up, and instead lay back down on the bed. So many confusing questions buzzed in my brain. Why was I in hospital, for a start? Why couldn't I sit up? Hell, why couldn't I even talk properly?!  
  
And most worryingly, why couldn't I feel my legs?  
  
My thoughts were interrupted by a young doctor swanning into the room. She had a shiny brown ponytail and brown eyes and a smile. "Ah, I see you're up." Well yes, in the metaphorical sense of the word. `Up' wasn't such a good description; `flat on your back and confused as hell' would probably be better.  
  
I decided to get my oar in before my father sidetracked her with his usual pointless questions. "What's going on? And why can't I feel my legs?"  
  
She didn't answer my question directly. "Matt, right? Okay. Do you have any knowledge of ever sleepwalking, Matt?"  
  
What kind of a question was that?! Now I thought about it, I could remember waking up in the lounge once or twice and wondering how the hell I got there.  
  
I nodded my head stiffly. She responded with another beaming smile. That was beginning to annoy me. Why did she have to be so damned cheerful?  
  
"Great. Thanks very much." She turned to Dad. "Could I have a word with you please?" Her eyes flickered to me and back again. "Perhaps you'd better step outside a moment."  
  
He hesitated, then stood up. "I'll be back in a moment, Matt. Stay there." Where else did he suggest I go? He followed her out.  
  
Alone in the room, I sighed briefly. My train of thought was stopped in its tracks when Dad's coat began to play the William Tell overture. It took a moment for me to work out his mobile phone was ringing.  
  
I dove into his pockets and retrieved the offending item. As I withdrew the familiar silver case, I realised it was actually my phone and Tai was calling.  
  
"He-llo?" I pressed the `OK' button and lifted the phone to my ear.  
  
"Hey Matso." I shuddered. I hated that nickname. Perhaps that was why Tai insisted on using it so much.  
  
"Don't call me that! You make me sound like a pretzel."  
  
"Sorry Matt." There was a pause. "What's up? You got the results back yet?"  
  
Results? What was he talking about? "Could you talk English please, Tai?"  
  
"Oh, sorry...they didn't tell you? Mom got a phone call at five thirty this morning to say you were in hospital and going for an X-ray."  
  
Why does no-one tell me these things? "Well, Dad's just got dragged outside by some doctor so I guess that's be the results." There was an awkward pause. "So, what's going on in your world?"  
  
To my relief, Tai launched into some tale of football practice and I was left alone with my thoughts. A horrible suspicion was beginning to form in the back of my mind. Slowly, fearfully, I slipped my free hand under the hospital blanket. To my enormous relief, my tentative fingers met my legs. Well, at least they were still there. At least, my hands told me they were. But if my hands could fell my knees, why couldn't my knees feel my hands?...  
  
"Hello? Earth to Matt?" Tai's voice cut through my reverie. "You still there?"  
  
"Oh, sorry. Yeah, I'm still here," I said, absent-mindedly. Well, my body was there anyway. My mind was else-where.  
  
Slowly, as whatever drugs I'd been fed loosened their hold on me, I began to piece together the previous night's events. My dream of falling from a cliff...being asked if I sleepwalked...being unable to move my legs...the dull ache in my back...  
  
I suddenly realised my Dad had his hand on the doorknob. "Listen, Tai," I interrupted. "Dad's back. I gotta go." Without waiting for a reply, I hit the off switch on the phone and shoved it into Dad's pocket just before he came in.  
  
He was deathly white. He cast me a nervous glance, before sitting back down.  
  
I decided I wasn't going to stand for any more nonsense. "Tell me what's going on. Now! And when can I go home again?"  
  
There was another awkward silence, and when he resumed talking he hedged round the subject. "Well, you see, they're not quite sure..."  
  
I snapped. "Just tell me what happened last night! How hard can it be, God damnit?!"  
  
He exhaled. "Fair enough. Somehow, you managed to sleepwalk out of the front door and fell down the flight of stairs. On the way down, you fractured one of the bones in your spine." He paused to swallow, and I realised with a tremendous sense of dread what my back ache meant...why I couldn't feel anything from my waist downwards...  
  
When he spoke again, my fears were confirmed. "Matt, you're paralysed from the waist down." 


End file.
